


Clay Sculpture

by vystcubudy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Clay statue, Dreams and Nightmares, Fantasy, Friendship, Friendship/Love, George the clay sculpterer, Ghost Dream Voice, Light Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vystcubudy/pseuds/vystcubudy
Summary: It’s my first time writing a poetic type fanfic so don’t expect much greatness.This whole fanfic was inspired by a DreamnotFound fanart.Do not repost or share on any other platforms without properly giving credit. Please and thank you.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 5





	1. Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> It’s my first time writing a poetic type fanfic so don’t expect much greatness.This whole fanfic was inspired by a DreamnotFound fanart.
> 
> Do not repost or share on any other platforms without properly giving credit. Please and thank you.

The sun had finally fallen from the mist covered now raspberry coloured sky, as the sound of birds slowly evaporates in the loneliness of the sunset. The few sun rays that managed to escape the grip of night fell quietly behind the mountains, which now were nothing more than pure shadows hiding what’s lying beneath them. Water droplets could be heard coming from an unknown source. A chill feeling that felt oh so haunting creeped up on him.

The continues rhythmic notes played in the background while a pale skinned boy worked on his upcoming masterpiece. The feeling of raw clay on his hands was nothing but a mere distraction. Streams of sweat poured down his face, giving off a ticklish sensation giving him light chills up his back. This statue which felt more like a hard work trophy, was now taller than the boy, which stood on a wooden stool trying to perfect every detail of the hand chiselled face. 

His long, skinny fingers caressed lovingly upon the clay face, gently touching all areas in order to perfect the little mistakes that haunted the boy’s mind. The so called trophy of his was nothing more than a mere clay human figure. The boy had a habit of naming his clay sculptures, because he felt more attached to them.. he thought of them as real beings who had the chance to speak to him but always chose not to say a word. 

The love for this statue felt unreal, as many names ran through the boy’s mind,yet none of them matched. The thought of coming up with his own original name ran through his mind multiple times,though his indecisiveness made him think twice about this action. After several minutes of intense though careful thinking, this one thought clicked. It was quite an immature and childish decision. 

The name of the human statue was Dream. The name quite strongly described a dreamy young man, tall and fit, with a chiselled body though a soft look, hand carved jawline and fierce tiger eyes. A daring look ruled over his face, while a more soft and comforting feeling flowed in his body.

The boy reached across, to feel his hand touch a small marker. Grabbing it gently, he pulled it closer and leaned down. With swiftness he began writing his name and the statues name on the bottom of the tall,shadowed clay figure. “Made by George. Piece name: Dream”. 

Moonlight shone through the open window, falling gently on the shoulders of the silent clay figure. 

Midnight ruled over the quiet night, the sound of whispering crickets resounded through the house. 

Slightly pushing “Dream” towards an oven, George had now consumed every single bit of energy he had left.

He got up, glanced over at the window, seeing a bunch of fireflies dancing in the air while shining like little lit lanterns.

Cracking sounds could be heard coming from the stairs that George was now climbing trying to go to his room, a small attic shaped room surrounded by small windows. 

It was his favourite place of the house. He could stand there for hours, doing nothing but staring at the outside world, such a distant and scary world, full of unsolvable mysteries.

A chosen window got opened and a light breeze managed to sneak into the room, giving the atmosphere a chill feeling as though as he was outside laying on the green fresh grass.

Jumping up on the bed, a worn-out George closed his eyes, in hopes of trailing off to sleep as soon as possible..

His eyes opened suddenly, he felt like he was stuck in a void. black surrounding him on all sides. He couldnt see anything. a terrifying feeling creeped up on him, making his heart race, like it was about to break free from his chest..escaping this frightful reality.

“George..?” A sweet worried voice was caught by his ears.

“Who’s there!?” A worried filled scream came from the boy.

“Dont worry George.. you’re going to be ok. Nothing will hurt you. Not while i’m here” a whisper from an unknown location was heard once again. 

“Who are you? And how do you know my name?” He replied. Confusion fogged his brain.

“Oh George come on now.. how could I not know your name?” a small sweet chuckle echoed through the void

A light touch was felt by George on his shoulder

“Who-“ he attempted to turn around in a hurry.

“Don’t. The time has not come yet.” the voice told him

Chills travelled through George’s body. He wanted to know who it was, his curiosity grew bigger by the second. 

He felt.. warm? He felt reassured and safe, a familiar feeling he had felt not too long ago.

“We’ll meet again George. Even if in another life or who knows. Maybe even in another universe. But for now..” the voice whispered deep in ear “i need you to remember my voice.” blurted out the ghostly voice.

Eyes opened with force while the boy was still in shock. He didn’t notice that he had been hyperventilating in his sleep, up until now that he woke up.

Head filled with endless confusion and stress. Who? Why? Where? How? these questions flooded his mind, needing an immediate answer..


	2. Humbleness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not repost or share my work without giving proper credit.

His day went on as usual. He got up half asleep with his body aching, no reason found whatsoever.

That voice still roamed freely in his mind, echoing everywhere. 

After thoroughly washing his face in hopes of fully waking up, he carefully went down the creaking stairs. The annoying sound filled the small narrow hall.

Entering his little workplace of a room, he glanced at the finished clay figures. Every piece that he worked so hard on, with such precision, stood on the wooden shelves as a thin layer of dust covered them like a summer blanket.He was so proud of those creations. Spending so much time on something as small as that really taught him the value that even the smallest things hold. 

The outside was filled with bird chirping. George had completely lost track of the time, not even knowing what season it was. Judging by the laughter filled environment that surrounded his house, it was probably spring or summer. 

As he opened up the windows so the sun could fill the house with it’s warm and bright rays, he noticed Dream, his newest finished work. George felt bad referring to it as “creation” or “statue”. Not knowing why there was already a strong bond created between him and Dream. It was as if they knew each other already. 

George slightly brushed his finger past Dream’s cheek, caressing it softly as the sun brought out his emerald green eyes. So dangerous yet so fragile.

Shock filled George’s body when he felt his phone buzz.

“Oh. It’s Sapnap? We haven’t talked in quite a while actually.” The boy confessed a few seconds before answering the phone.

“Hello? George?” Sapnap said as soon as the line connected.

“Hi Sapnap. How have you been?” George tried to start a simple yet nerve wracking conversation.

“Oh I’ve been pretty good. College has really eaten up my free time but except for that everything else is going smoothly. How’s it going with you?” Sapnap answered then asked back the same monotone question.

“I’ve been pretty ok myself. You know just continuously working haha.” George tried to laugh in order to lighten up the sleepy yet dead mood.

“Don’t overdo it dude. Your health is more important than those clay things.” Sapnap said almost as he was scolding George, rather than giving him a friendly advice.

“It’s all fine Sapnap. And those aren’t just simple clay things. They are like my friends.. I have actually made a new one. It’s bigger than me and he looks so realistic. His name is Dream!” George said proudly.

“Dream? You named your creation??” Sapnap answered rather confused.

“Yea I’m quite surprised myself if I’m being completely honest. I felt this deep connection between us..” George blurted out unintentionally.

“Woah. Seems pretty serious if you’re asking me. I would love to come and see it but.. you know. Distance.” Sapnap seemed down.

“True. Though I could send you a photo!” George tried to cheer him up.

“Oh sure dude. Anytime. Your creations are really fucking cool you know.” A fierce fire possessed his voice, filling the call with excitement.

“Heh thank you Sapnap. I try my best.” George slightly denied Sapnap’s statement.

“You really have to get over your humbleness George. You are really amazing and it definitely shows up in your works.” Sapnap pushed.

“I- I will try Sapnap.” George gave an end to the already short conversation.

“I’ll be waiting for the photo. Until then, talk later.” Sapnap agreed with George’s decision.

“Yea. Talk later Sapnap. Take care” George replied as he pulled the phone away from his ear.

“You too Geor-“ Sapnap’s voice cut off as the call forcefully ended.

Shifting his attention else where, George now found himself carelessly walking towards Dream.

His tired legs that led him to Dream took with them endless letters and other small object that were now lying on the ground, asking to be picked up by their owner.

“His mind was empty” was the least you could say. George didn’t know what took over him. He was perfectly fine. Was it the call that stirred his feelings? Was it the line “you need go get over your humbleness”? 

As he got closer to Dream, George opened his arms wishing for the statue to give him a comforting hug. A warm and safe feeling needed to overflow within George.

Getting lost in his thought, George felt two arms wrapping around him slowly and carefully, fearing he would break at any moment. 

A hot breath fell on his shoulders, giving him chills all over. 

It felt extremely warm..


End file.
